Ethan sat cross-legged near the fire, a faint orange glow flickering over the small village nestled deep in the forest. The villagers moved about, tending to the evening chores, but their eyes often darted toward him with curiosity and, occasionally, admiration. It had only been a day since he had helped them kill the Dire Boar, but in that short time, his role in their world was starting to shift.
He looked down at his hands, still slightly stained with the blood of the boar. His makeshift knife lay beside him, dulled by the battle. He sighed, feeling the weight of the past day settle on him. This world is dangerous. I can’t rely on luck or my intelligence alone. I need to be better prepared.
Ethan glanced at the knife again, knowing it wouldn't be enough for future encounters. It was crude, hastily crafted from the bones and stones he found near the place he had first arrived. He'd need something sharper, more reliable. The wolf he had killed earlier had provided meat, but it was the pelt he had preserved that might be useful.
With a grunt, Ethan stood up, stretching his sore muscles. The villagers watched him as he approached Korak, the leader of the group and the strongest among them. Korak was busy sharpening his own spear with a rock when he noticed Ethan coming closer.
"Korak," Ethan began, still getting used to their clipped language. "Can I use some of your tools? I need to make a better weapon."
Korak paused, looking up at him with those sharp, calculating eyes. "Weapon? For what purpose?"
Ethan gestured toward the wilderness beyond the village. "There are more creatures out there, right? More like the boar. I want to be ready next time. I can't rely on luck alone."
Korak gave a small nod of approval. "You are wise for one so young. You may use what we have. But we are limited—tools here are basic. Stones, bones, wood."
"That's all I need for now," Ethan replied, offering a grateful smile. He followed Korak to a small hut where the villagers kept their supplies. It was rudimentary but stocked with the essentials: sharp stones, bones of animals, strips of leather, and dried sinew. It reminded Ethan of survival techniques he had read about in books back in his world. He wasn't an expert, but he was quick to adapt.
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Crafting the Knife
Hours passed as Ethan worked under the dim light of the fire, carefully selecting materials. He used a larger stone to shape a piece of bone into a makeshift blade, painstakingly grinding it down until it had a rough edge. It was far from perfect, but it was sharper than his first attempt. He bound the handle with leather strips, securing it tightly to ensure a firm grip.
As he worked, a small crowd of villagers gathered around him, watching in silent fascination. None of them spoke, but their presence was a reminder that he was still an outsider in their world. Ethan didn’t mind; he had always been a bit of a loner, even back in school. But here, in this strange place, the sense of isolation was more profound.
When he finally finished, Ethan tested the knife by slicing through a piece of meat from the boar. The blade cut cleanly, not as easily as a modern knife, but enough to get the job done. Satisfied, he looked up at the villagers.
"It's not much," he said, wiping sweat from his brow, "but it's a start."
Korak, who had been watching from a distance, stepped forward. "You have skill. Perhaps not with a spear, but with your hands." He looked down at the knife and nodded in approval. "It will serve you well."
"Thanks," Ethan said, standing up. "Now, there's something else I need to figure out."
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Exploring the Status System
That night, after the villagers had settled into their huts, Ethan sat alone by the fire, staring at the stars. His mind kept drifting back to the status screen he had seen earlier. The concept of leveling up, gaining skills, and even the lottery system intrigued him, but it was also overwhelming. He had grown stronger just from fighting the boar, and yet he had barely scratched the surface of what this world had to offer.
What am I even doing here? he wondered. There had been no explanation, no grand revelation about why he had been pulled into this world. But here he was, surviving by the skin of his teeth, adapting as quickly as he could.
He decided it was time to take a closer look at his stats. Focusing his mind, he thought about the status screen again, willing it to appear.
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Name: Ethan
Species: Human
Level: 5
HP: 180/180
Strength: 10
Agility: 11
Intelligence: 18
Stamina: 12
Endurance: 9
Mana: 30
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Skills:
* Basic Combat (Lv. 1): Slightly increases proficiency with primitive weapons.
* Survival Instinct (Passive): Heightened awareness of immediate threats.
* Crafting (Lv. 2): Enhances the ability to create simple tools and weapons from available resources.
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Magic Affinity: Low
Current Points: 3
Next Level: 240 XP
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Ethan stared at the screen, marveling at how simplified yet effective the system was. His intelligence stat stood out, significantly higher than the others. He had always been smart back in school, excelling in every subject without much effort. It seemed that translated into this world too. But intelligence alone won’t keep me alive, he thought, glancing at his strength and stamina stats. Those would need to improve.
His eyes trailed down the screen, landing on the new section. He had only quickly reviewed it, but he would need to use it to get stronger. Or at least die trying.
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Lottery System:
Available at 5 skill points
* Spend skill points to roll for a random reward.
* 30% Negative Effect
* 20% Stat Boost
* 30% Gear
* 20% Skills/Abilities
----------------------------------------
Ethan’s fingers twitched. The idea of rolling for a reward was tempting, but he didn’t have enough points yet. One more level, he thought, his mind already calculating the potential risks and rewards. He wasn’t sure how severe the negative effects could be, but the chance to gain new skills, gear, or even stat boosts was too good to pass up.
As he mulled over his options, the sound of rustling leaves caught his attention. He glanced up to see Rika, the tribeswoman with the sharp eyes and bow, approaching him. She carried a small bundle in her arms, wrapped in animal hide.
“You are still awake?” she asked, her voice soft and melodic, though there was a certain wariness in her gaze.
“Yeah,” Ethan replied, motioning to the fire. “Couldn’t sleep. There’s too much to think about.”
Rika sat down across from him, placing the bundle beside her. “Korak told me you made a new knife. Impressive for someone not from our land.”
Ethan shrugged. “Just something I had to do. I can’t rely on luck forever.”
She nodded, her eyes flicking to the knife at his side. “It is true. Luck will only take you so far. Here, you must be strong, or you die.”
There was no malice in her words, only a cold truth that Ethan was quickly coming to accept. This world was harsh, unforgiving. If he wanted to survive, he had to adapt.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Ethan said after a moment. “What is this place? I mean, I know it’s your village, but… the world itself. What’s out there?”
Rika’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were considering whether or not to tell him. “Our world is vast, filled with many dangers. Beasts like the one you helped us kill roam the forests. But there are worse things—creatures with powers beyond our understanding. And there are other tribes, some like ours, others… more hostile.”
“Hostile how?” Ethan asked, leaning forward.
“Some tribes worship the beasts, sacrificing their own people to gain favor. Others hunt for power, enslaving those who are weaker.” Rika’s voice grew quieter, her expression darkening. “We are small, and we do not seek war. But sometimes, war finds us.”
The fire crackled between them, casting long shadows as the night deepened. Ethan sat in silence, digesting Rika's words. Hostile tribes, worshipping beasts, and sacrificing people? This world was far more brutal than he had imagined. He rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of it all.
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As the quiet stretched between them, Ethan noticed something odd. He had been in this village for nearly a day, and yet he hadn’t seen any children. He glanced toward Rika, who seemed lost in thought, her sharp gaze flickering with the firelight.
“Rika,” Ethan began cautiously, “I’ve been here a while, but I haven’t seen any kids around. Do you have children in the village?”
Rika’s expression shifted, becoming guarded. She hesitated, and Ethan could see a brief flash of something—worry, perhaps?—before she spoke. “We do. They are… kept safe.”
“Kept safe?” Ethan repeated, raising an eyebrow. “From what?”
“From the dangers that lurk beyond the trees.” Her tone grew firmer, as though the topic was closed. She stood up, picking up the bundle she had brought with her. “The children stay hidden when outsiders come. It’s for their safety.”
Ethan nodded slowly, understanding the caution but still feeling a little unsettled. If they were this protective of their children, it meant the threats were very real. He couldn’t blame them for not trusting him completely either—he was a stranger in their world, after all.
“Is that for me?” he asked, nodding toward the bundle in Rika’s arms, trying to shift the conversation.
She glanced down at the bundle, as if she had momentarily forgotten she was holding it. “Yes. Korak asked me to bring it to you.” She handed it over to him, and Ethan could feel the weight of the package—something solid was wrapped inside.
Curiosity piqued, he carefully unwrapped the hide to reveal a set of primitive tools. There was a small, sharpened stone knife, a bone needle, and a length of dried sinew. Along with these were a few strips of leather and a pouch of dried herbs.
Ethan looked up at Rika, slightly surprised. “What’s all this for?”
“For you,” she said simply. “You fought with us against the boar, and you’re trying to survive in this land. It’s only fair that we give you what little we can spare.”
Ethan’s heart warmed at the gesture. It wasn’t much by modern standards, but out here, these tools were a lifeline. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… I didn’t expect this.”
Rika gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Do not thank me yet. You have much to learn about survival.”
With that, she turned and disappeared into the shadows of the village, leaving Ethan alone by the fire with the bundle of tools. He sighed, placing the items down beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire against his skin. Despite the suspicion from some of the villagers, moments like this gave him hope that he could eventually earn their trust.
The next morning, Ethan woke to the sounds of the village stirring. Birds called from the treetops, and the faint smell of cooking meat wafted through the air. He stretched, feeling the soreness in his muscles from yesterday’s exertions, and then stood, glancing around.
The village was a hive of activity. Men sharpened their spears and prepared to hunt, while women gathered water and herbs. Despite the peaceful scene, there was a palpable sense of tension in the air—likely due to the boar attack from the day before.
He wasn’t here to make things harder for anyone. Instead, he focused on his own tasks. After scavenging for some materials, he returned to his spot by the fire and set to work improving his knife.
Crafting took time, but Ethan knew that rushing would only lead to mistakes. He used the bone needle to sew a crude sheath for his knife with the leather strips and sinew. It wasn’t pretty, but it was functional. By the time he finished, the sun was high in the sky, and the village had quieted down as most of the hunters had left.
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Ethan sat back, wiping the sweat from his brow as he admired his work. He couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment. This world was pushing him in ways he hadn’t expected, but he was adapting. His mind wandered back to the status screen he had seen the night before.
“How does this even work?” he wondered aloud. Was it magic? Technology? He had no idea, but if he was going to survive here, he needed to fully understand this system. Focusing his thoughts, he willed the screen to appear again.
----------------------------------------
Name: Ethan
Species: Human
Level: 5
HP: 180/180
Strength: 10
Agility: 11
Intelligence: 18
Stamina: 12
Endurance: 9
Mana: 30
----------------------------------------
Skills:
* Basic Combat (Lv. 1)
* Survival Instinct (Passive)
* Crafting (Lv. 3)
* Basic Sewing (Lv.1)
----------------------------------------
Lottery System:
Available at 5 skill points
* Spend skill points to roll for a random reward
* 30% Negative Effect
* 20% Stat Boost
* 30% Gear
* 20% Skills/Abilities
----------------------------------------
The fire crackled between them, casting long shadows as the night deepened. Ethan sat in silence, digesting Rika's words. Hostile tribes, worshipping beasts, and sacrificing people? This world was far more brutal than he had imagined. He rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of it all.
As the quiet stretched between them, Ethan noticed something odd. He had been in this village for nearly a day, and yet he hadn’t seen any children. He glanced toward Rika, who seemed lost in thought, her sharp gaze flickering with the firelight.
“Rika,” Ethan began cautiously, “I’ve been here a while, but I haven’t seen any kids around. Do you have children in the village?”
Rika’s expression shifted, becoming guarded. She hesitated, and Ethan could see a brief flash of something—worry, perhaps?—before she spoke. “We do. They are… kept safe.”
“Kept safe?” Ethan repeated, raising an eyebrow. “From what?”
“From the dangers that lurk beyond the trees.” Her tone grew firmer, as though the topic was closed. She stood up, picking up the bundle she had brought with her. “The children stay hidden when outsiders come. It’s for their safety.”
Ethan nodded slowly, understanding the caution but still feeling a little unsettled. If they were this protective of their children, it meant the threats were very real. He couldn’t blame them for not trusting him completely either—he was a stranger in their world, after all.
“Is that for me?” he asked, nodding toward the bundle in Rika’s arms, trying to shift the conversation.
She glanced down at the bundle, as if she had momentarily forgotten she was holding it. “Yes. Korak asked me to bring it to you.” She handed it over to him, and Ethan could feel the weight of the package—something solid was wrapped inside.
Curiosity piqued, he carefully unwrapped the hide to reveal a set of primitive tools. There was a small, sharpened stone knife, a bone needle, and a length of dried sinew. Along with these were a few strips of leather and a pouch of dried herbs.
Ethan looked up at Rika, slightly surprised. “What’s all this for?”
“For you,” she said simply. “You fought with us against the boar, and you’re trying to survive in this land. It’s only fair that we give you what little we can spare.”
Ethan’s heart warmed at the gesture. It wasn’t much by modern standards, but out here, these tools were a lifeline. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… I didn’t expect this.”
Rika gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Do not thank me yet. You have much to learn about survival.”
With that, she turned and disappeared into the shadows of the village, leaving Ethan alone by the fire with the bundle of tools. He sighed, placing the items down beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire against his skin. Despite the suspicion from some of the villagers, moments like this gave him hope that he could eventually earn their trust.
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The Morning After
The next morning, Ethan woke to the sounds of the village stirring. Birds called from the treetops, and the faint smell of cooking meat wafted through the air. He stretched, feeling the soreness in his muscles from yesterday’s exertions, and then stood, glancing around.
The village was a hive of activity. Men sharpened their spears and prepared to hunt, while women gathered water and herbs. Despite the peaceful scene, there was a palpable sense of tension in the air—likely due to the boar attack from the day before.
As Ethan made his way through the village, he caught sight of a small group of children peeking out from behind one of the huts. They quickly ducked out of view when they saw him looking, but a smile tugged at his lips. So, there were children here after all. He figured they had been hiding when he first arrived, probably scared of him—understandably so.
Ethan didn’t approach them, deciding to give them space. He wasn’t here to make things harder for anyone. Instead, he focused on his own tasks. After scavenging for some materials, he returned to his spot by the fire and set to work improving his knife.
Crafting took time, but Ethan knew that rushing would only lead to mistakes. He used the bone needle to sew a crude sheath for his knife with the leather strips and sinew. It wasn’t pretty, but it was functional. By the time he finished, the sun was high in the sky, and the village had quieted down as most of the hunters had left.
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His thoughts flowed back to the lottery system yet again. He really thirsted after gambling. There was a risk of something bad happening, but it could also offer him new gear or abilities. He didn’t have enough points yet, so it wasn’t an immediate concern. But it loomed over him like a tempting fruit just out of reach.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone approaching. He looked up to see Korak standing nearby, his large frame casting a long shadow over the fire.
“Ethan,” Korak said, his voice deep and commanding. “There is something you must see.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed, but he nodded, quickly gathering his things and following Korak toward the edge of the village. As they walked, Korak’s tone was serious, and Ethan could tell that something important was happening.
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The Village’s Struggle
They arrived at the outskirts of the village, where a group of hunters stood gathered around a large carcass. It was a boar—not as large as the Dire Boar from yesterday, but still formidable. The hunters were inspecting it, muttering to each other in low voices. Ethan noticed that many of them had minor injuries—scratches and bruises from what looked like a struggle.
Korak motioned for him to step closer. “Our hunters are skilled, but even they cannot always guarantee a clean kill. We need better weapons, better tools. And I believe you can help.”
Ethan blinked, taken aback. “Me? I’ve only just learned how to make a basic knife.”
“You have ideas,” Korak said, his gaze steady. “Ideas that we do not have. You crafted that knife on your own, without our help. Perhaps you can find ways to improve our weapons.”
Ethan felt the weight of Korak’s words settle on him. The tribe was putting their trust in him, at least partially. They weren’t asking for miracles, but they saw potential in him—something he hadn’t expected this early on.
“I can try,” Ethan said, his mind already racing with possibilities. “But I’ll need time.”
Korak nodded. “Time is something we do not have much of. But we will give you what we can.”
He would have to get stronger, not just for the villages sake, but also for his own survival. He needed strength to live in this land, and that was somehting he just did not have at the moment.
As the day started coming to an end, thoughts of what to do next weighed on his mind, as his eyes slowly fluttered shut. The uncomfortable living space making it hard to fall asleep, but in a moment, his consciousness drifted away. Awaiting the time he will wake up the very next day...